


Solace Among the Stars

by EngineeredFiction



Series: Solace Among the Stars [1]
Category: Unspecified Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, Outer Space, Science Fiction, crossover fanfiction, scifi, space travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23402974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EngineeredFiction/pseuds/EngineeredFiction
Summary: A group of banned Earthers attempt to improve their life beyond their home system, but come up against a powerful enemy.
Series: Solace Among the Stars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683484
Kudos: 3





	1. The Stranger

Keane was conscious long enough to feel her saliva boil off her tongue and the formerly inert nitrogen gas bubbled in her blood caused intense pain. Her instinctive nature forced her body to scramble back to the lander a few meters away. Yet, everything went black after seconds of the forlorn effort.

The stench of stale metallic air woke Keane up from what felt like a deep slumber. This was not a sickbay or her ship. A dark and empty bar surrounded her; the only source of light was coming from the two windows on either side of the door. The deteriorated wooden floor creaked under her stillness. Behind there was a pack, it must be hers. A tumbler of substance was in front of her; she cautiously brought it to her nose. Whiskey. She threw it back, picked up the pack, and pulled open the door. Tall grey mountains surrounded the desolate building , so tall in fact they nearly blocked out the light. Not far in front a path was laid out that led to a thick pine forest. She felt an internal pull towards the path.

The forest was silent except for the sound of her feet hitting the ground. Her passing seemed to echo between the trees. There was no fear in her which she thought was strange. Ahead the scenery changed, there was a small warm glow at the end of the path and it grew in size with every step. Just before she reached the natural exit she was perplexed by the sight of tall sand dunes in front of her. 

She walked into a clearing where the grass gradually turned into sand. To her left and right stood a clear line of trees that went on forever in both directions. The mountains loomed behind them. Keane continued to follow the internal pull in her gut and walked up a dune. Once she reached the summit she paused to look around her. The desert only extended ten kilometers in front of her. Snow peaked mountains surrounded it and the smell of pine was strong. The wind was soft and the small grains of sand drifted over each other. For the first time she heard a sound that she didn’t make. She stood still and felt the wind blow through her long loose strands of hair.

Her breath quickened when she realised she had no idea where she was or why she was there. Her wonder was interrupted by movement a few dunes over. A figure was making its way over to her.. The figure was getting closer, but she couldn’t make out who it was. 

_A man?_

New smells reached her nose, a scent of alcohol and blood. Immediately, her joints started to ache and her left hand felt like it was fire. She looked down to the terrifying sight of her hand profusely bleeding, torn to shreds, and with bones sticking out.

Her mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out. The figure was approaching, but took no notice to the gory injury. Her head lolled back as nausea and vertigo became overwhelming. The fall into the warm darkness was slow.

*************************************************************************************

Keane’s eyes fluttered open. Seated in a hyperbaric chamber with a window on the door she slowly bent over in the reclined chair to see medical staff tending to patients. Her head throbbed and she squeezed her eyes shut. Pain radiated through every limb and settled in the joints. Her hand. She looked down and saw her left hand in a clear rectangle contraption. Below the wrist was a clean sawed line and a new skeletal hand was attached. Lasers travelled back and forth scanning and dispensing bio fluids to start the construction of the nerves. She swallowed and closed her eyes again. Her mouth was dry and her body relaxed.

 _Morphine,_ she guessed to herself, _that’s good._

She tried to remember what happened. Someone was attacking the lander. Greer was ahead of her and he was aiming at someone in the rocky mountains. Or was it the field? The field beside the mountains? It was nighttime. Keane didn’t see who shot her. She clenched her teeth to swallow the nausea. Whoever the perpetrator was, nearly killed her by decompressing her suit to the vacuum of space. 

She leaned forward again and peered out the window. The medical staff were no longer tending to the patient closest to her and she got a wide view of the sickbay. None of her crew were in the other chairs. This could be good or very bad. The patient in the chair closest to her chamber was getting a limb regrowth procedure for his right arm. The skeleton and nerves of his arm were complete and the lasers started to build up the muscle system. He was reclined back and sleeping. His hair was wet with grime and sweat. The tufts of brown hair matted to his face. He had a blond patch above his brow. Her study of the man was interrupted by the appearance of Greer.

He strode in with confidence and charm that Keane was well acquainted with over the past two years. Greer spotted her face in the window after a quick glance of the hyperbaric pods. He smiled with relief and gave her an okay hand symbol with a questioning look. 

Behind Keane’s returned smile was pain and weakness, but she gave a thumbs up. Greer peered in with curiosity and saw her soon to be new hand. 

“Cool,” he remarked. His baritone British voice sounded muffled and faint through the door. “Another two days and you’re out. Allard and Murtry are fine, they’re worried about you,” he added.

Keane nodded and gave another thumbs up. His smile reassured her about the rest of the crew and he left the sick bay for her to heal in peace.

Two days came and went. The doctor finished Keane’s final health evaluation. Her health had returned and her limb regrowth had been completed. She admired her new hand, which now had a new set of fingerprints. She thought it funny, if she had ever been booked for a crime it would set off confusion if anyone tried to accuse her based on her former fingerprints. 

“Surprisingly the CT scan found no brain damage,” the doctor stated without looking up from her tablet, “your heart stopped for a little over seven minutes. Your crewmate….Greer did CPR for five minutes and you spontaneously resuscitated about two minutes after.” She didn’t hear a reaction from Keane and so peered over her the device, “with no brain damage that is impressive.”

Keane felt the lump wedged in her throat. She fixated on a stain on the floor ahead of her.

“You’ll have a weird tingling sensation for the next week or two,” the doctor calmly stated. “If you follow the rehabilitation guidelines I sent to your PCA that new hand will feel like your original. Or better.” 

“Thank you,” Keane acknowledged and promptly gathered her personal belongings into her weekend bag that Greer brought to her. She opened it and the odor of stale sweat and blood wafted up. Her nose scrunched up and she knew her next destination. 

*************************************************************************************

Arcadia Station-Alpha is the last bastion of civilization this far out from the Primus System. The Primus System is home to Earth. When humans advanced enough to travel the further reaches of space through The Ring, what was then known as The Solar System needed a new name. Arcadia bore the title Alpha due to its size and grandeur. One of the many luxuries it housed was a public bath. For a few credits a traveller could get cleaned and soak in a pool of heated grey water. The aesthetic of the public bath recalls the glory of Roman architecture. In the midst of modern appearances and technology a revival of ancient art and decor made its way throughout the human inhabited Universe. 

Keane departed Arcadia’s sickbay and strolled to the bathhouse; where the gentle floral aromas drifted throughout its dimly lit rooms. In the locker room, she fully undressed, saved for sandals and a towel that were given at reception. She stepped into the busy shower room and turned an unoccupied faucet to hot. The steam rose up as she vigorously scrubbed off the scent of sweat and iodoform. She stood still under the showerhead letting the hot water roll over her body. 

_A desert in the middle of the mountains. A cool sandy desert. Earth? Somewhere else? Made up, most likely._

Keane exited the bathhouse and the clean clothes felt refreshing against her skin. She smiled in comfort at the immediate sight of her crew. They waited at the foot of the stairs to the bathhouse. Greer, Allard, the pilot, and Murtry, who assigned himself the role of security area manager, chatted amongst themselves. Murtry was the first one to see Keane exiting the bathhouse.

“Good to see you’re alive and well!” Murtry exclaimed. He gave her a casual hug, “How’s the hand?”

Keane offered her hand lady-like, “As good as new. Feels a bit funny at the moment, but it should go away in a week or two and back to full strength in a month,” she changed topics, “fuck those guys. What the hell were they doing?”

“Apparently it was an accident.” Greer added.

“How?”

“He...simply said...he thought we were raiders.”

“We were picking up civilians.”

Greer shrugged, “That’s what he said. His name is Axtin and he’s part of Terra Corp. They’re going to get slapped with another violation for this. Probably put them out for awhile.”

“Good riddance!” Murtry hummed.

“Someone has to topple the giant, it might as well be you,” Allard jested in her thick French accent. 

“With my life,” Keane sighed, “I’m starving.”

*************************************************************************************

Another part of Arcadia’s grandeur was the fifth level dining halls. They boasted meals for those on the go to the multiple course sit down affair. The level bustled with a variety of travellers and station workers. Some were well-dressed and others covered in grime. The rough ones were usually floaters who worked independently and performed random odd jobs. The money to be made was in harvesting resources from the assorted planets and moons within the half parsec area. 

The sushi restaurant bustled with customers, some crammed up to the bar and the rest squeezed into tables in the cramped space. The crew sat shoulder to shoulder at the bar with little words exchanged as they quickly ate their food. Keane waved her hand quickly any time the prickly sensation became too much and somehow the movement calmed the new nerves.

Between mouthfuls of ramen Allard asked, “You know what they call that feeling? Of a new limb.”

“Oh ‘the stranger,” interjected Greer.

“Yeah because when you masturbate it feels like someone else.” Keane quipped. 

“Really?” asked Murtry.

“I don’t know...yet.” 

Keane and Murtry chuckled. She was the only crew member Murtry felt, if only a tad bit, close to on a personal level. He admired her dry sense of humour. 

A shadowy figure appeared behind them revealed himself under the neon glow of the bar’s sign. The four paused their eating to look up at this newcomer. His face was heavy with scars, but his clothing was finely made. After a few beats the man cleared his throat.

“Which one of you is Captain Greer?” his voice was low and rough.

Greer stood up from his seat to get on the same eye level, “I am.”

“Mr. Wallis of Terra Corp would like you to join him for a drink in his office.”

“When?”

“Now.”

Greer looked back at his crew and was met with silence. Keane gave him a nod.

“Can’t hurt can it?” she whispered.

Greer hesitated, “Sure.”

  
  
  



	2. Manifest Destiny

The lift sped up to the ninth level of Arcadia carrying Greer and his mysterious escort. A metallic ding signaled their stop, and the lift doors opened to a sprawling view of two nearby moons through floor-to-ceiling windows. The moon Helada, ammonia ice streaked the blue rock, and in the distance was Bosque, or colloquially known as ‘The Green’, due to its poisonous green atmosphere and lush forests. The gas giant Bakhroma was off in the distance behind the moon.  
“This way,” the escort called motioning for Greer to follow him through the door behind the receptionist's desk.   
Greer pulled away from the view and glimpsed at the receptionist. There was an unnatural glow behind the young man’s eyes; he wasn’t human, but a replicant. Replicants always caught Greer off guard due to their ability to blend in with humans. He always thought their short lifespan was a necessary reassurance.   
The hallway behind the door led to an expansive room with a flurry of activity. Desks were occupied with relaxed chattering people in well-tailored clothing. A young woman paraded around the office floor in a skintight latex unitard with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Greer spotted a bowl of black caviar on her tray. More food and bottles of wine were brought in by caterers.  
“Is there a party?” asked Greer.  
His escort gave him a sideways glance, “A celebration.”  
“Celebrating what?”  
His question was ignored. The escort pressed a bell by a door near the back. After a few seconds the door slid open to reveal Wallis’ secretary.  
“He’s been expecting you,” he coolly stated, “follow me.”  
Greer followed the secretary while the escort disappeared behind him. The office was large, smokey, and dark except for low gold lighting around the perimeter of the room and the light coming from the expansive windows behind his desk. Wallis was surrounded by a few members of Terra Corp’s managing staff, each carrying full-to-the-brim champagne glasses. A freshly-lit cigar dangled from Wallis’ mouth. He immediately turned to his new guest with a wide grin, gave Greer a once-over while he took a drag from his cigar, and strode across the black flooring to greet Greer.   
“You must be Captain James Greer?” Wallis affirmed with an equally firm handshake.   
“Yes.”  
“I’m Jaxtom Wallis. COO of Terra Corp.”  
“I know you who are.”  
Wallis took another puff of his cigar with a raised eyebrow and set it down on the desk.  
“Let me introduce you to some of the bigwigs of Terra Corp on this side of the galaxy,” he announced. He slapped a firm hand on Greer’s shoulder and guided him through the introductions, “This is Callista head of sales, Zarina head of engineering and sciences, and Dexton our lawyer, well one of many, and this brilliant man is Xavix. He’s the Director of Colonization for the United World Systems.”  
Pleasantries were exchanged and Wallis’s secretary handed Greer a half full glass of champagne.  
“What do you need to speak to me about?” Greer asked.  
“Straight to business? Take some time to admire my new cassowary! Here let me show you,” Wallis herded Greer with another firm hand on the shoulder. “I just got this beauty a few days ago.”  
The large mechanical bird turned its head towards the pair, two amber glowing eyes stared back at them. The beak opened and a tinny squawk forced its way out. It took a few steps ahead, stretched out the wings, and flapped a few times.  
“Isn’t it stunning?” inquired Wallis.  
“Wonderful,” Greer deadpanned. Greer furrowed his brow at the bird, “What is it again?”  
“A cassowary. The real ones on Earth are aggressive and can kill a person with its claws.”  
“It adds comfort to the place.”  
“More of a touch of elegance I think,” Wallis either ignored or missed Greer’s dry sarcasm. “Listen,” he turned Greer back towards the staff and leaned into him, “We had a situation where a Terra Corp employee mistook one of your employees as a raider...pirate...marauder...and fired at them.”  
“She nearly died when the bullet tore her suit and exposed her to vacuum.”  
“One I humbly apologise for.”  
“And lost a hand.”  
“I heard she had a limb regrowth procedure?”  
“She did.”  
“Well she’s good as new if not better! You see this mishap between her and one of my men has weighed heavily on me. I would like to make it up to you and your crew.” Wallis pushed a button on his desk and the hologram of a four planet system appeared. He continued, “Have you heard of the Basilicus System?”  
“In passing.”  
“The UWS has been in the Basilicus System for the past seventy years and has just announced that it is ready for colonization. Terra Corp has been given the first permit to begin working the grounds of Basilicus!”  
Greer read the eagerly waiting faces of the staff, “And?”  
“Terra Corp is a bit under financial strain-”  
“I couldn’t tell,” Greer recalled his early sight of the celebration outside.   
Wallis chuckled sheepishly and continued, “we just can’t take a whole fleet out that far without getting a lay of the lands and resource samples and showing those refined resources to our board and investors.”  
“How far out?”  
Xavix butted in, “Two parsecs from Arcadia. Sixty three years each way if you go there straight from here. Sixty years if you go back through The Ring Network. ”  
“A hundred twenty-six years!” Greer choked.  
“But we can reduce that to fifty seven years both ways if we give you a new state-of-the-art ship,” Wallis persuaded.  
“For a twelve year difference, we are not giving up the Sleipnir.”  
Wallis picked up the champagne glass and balanced it between his fingers. He studied Greer’s face for a few seconds. Wallis teased, “There are five million credits on the table for this mission. Five million credits for each crew member. Imagine what you could do with five million credits. You could buy a penthouse on Mars, or Titan, or a house with acres of land on the lush green planets of Andromeda or Rhea with more than enough left over for the end of your days; buy fine things for your wife...or husband! Maybe for your future children? And out of this you get a new space transportation system, which includes the new model of suspended animation pods, Generation Nine nuclear pulse engine, and other luxuries for a long trip…”  
Greer swallowed the rest of his champagne, “I need to discuss this with my crew and see what they say.”  
“Of course. But we need an answer tomorrow. Time is ticking and we are eager to get this to work for the long term goal of Terra Corp.”  
“What’s the long term goal?  
“Expansion. On Earth 19th century Americans believed in Manifest Destiny. The virtue, mission, and destiny of the United States was to spread its way of life across the country. We aim to do the same for the betterment of our people...of all people. We still have the desire; the need; the want to explore and go further than ever before. And Basilicus has four planets, and their moons, with an abundance of wealth waiting to be plucked from its virgin lands.”  
A lump grew in Greer’s throat, “I’ll talk to them.”  
“Persuade them.”  
Xavix stepped forward, “Do any of them have mining or harvesting experience?”  
“No,” Greer responded.  
“I can add one of my employees to your crew. I’ll see to it personally you’ll get the best and provide training for you and your crew. Paid by me.”  
“And what exactly will we be doing-”  
“-I’m afraid I can’t tell you any more until you and your crew agree to the mission.”  
The staff appeared to salviate as they silently waited for Greer’s answer, their fingers wrapped tightly around the stem of the champagne glasses. Their breaths trapped in their lungs and lips pursed.  
“If the answer is yes,” Wallis asserted,, “bring your crew tomorrow morning.” 

****************************************************

“How long?” Murtry inquired as he crossed his arms.   
“Fifty-seven to sixty-three years. So a total of a hundred fourteen to hundred twenty six Earth years. Plus however long it takes us to get these ‘resources’,” Greer replied.  
A collective groan came from the crew.  
“We’re already twenty years out from when most of us left Earth,” Keane stated. She jolted out of her chair in the mess room of their ship, Sleipnir, to the cabinet that stored the libations.  
“What’s adding a hundred to it?” Allard sighed, “Perhaps they’ve already forgotten about us on Earth and we can go back?”  
“Not likely with the UN in charge. They keep permanent records,” Murtry interjected. “I may not be able to go back to Earth, but I don’t plan on being a star sailor for the rest of my life.”  
“Born and bred ground pounder?” Greer asked Murtry as he followed Keane to grab glasses and she pulled out the whiskey.  
“Exactly! I would like to settle on some bountiful rock, and five million credits will get that for me.”  
“Five million credits from a corporation that has built its empire on blood and exploitation? All they ever were fines, freeze orders, and strikes, ” Keane complained.   
“Why not? They’ll be out of twenty million dollars with us on board!” Murtry retorted.  
“But what did the UWS find out there that’s worthy of investing twenty million dollars, a pulse engine ship, and then the time it’ll take to get there and back? Must be something highly valuable.”  
“And we would have to have one of their employees with us,” Allard added.  
“I’m not comfortable with that and I want our own AI installed on the ship. If we’re going,” Keane insisted.   
“I agree, I don’t want one of their employees with us,” Greer moved to the table with three glasses of whiskey for each and sat beside Murtry leaving Keane the only one standing sipping the liquor.  
Murtry gulped down the whiskey, “So what we do? Hire a floater? Unsavoury characters.”  
“Kettle calling the pot,” Allard hummed.  
“It’s pot calling the kettle.”  
“Are you sure?”  
The three nodded their heads towards Allard.  
“It may seem strange to hear this from me, but Terra Corp is a double-edge sword. They’re a necessary evil. I know evil, I’m well acquainted with it. I’m slowly coming around from what I’ve done. And...I...it’s been more than twenty years since I’ve last set foot on Earth. The people I care about are either dead, dying, or don’t want to talk to me anymore. Or a combination of the latter. So why not travel the parsecs to the farthest reaches humans have gone and see worlds that haven't been seen in person?” Murtry reasoned.  
Keane stared at her boots; the soles were worn and on the edge of tearing, the original laces snapped ages ago and replaced with new ones.   
“What do you think?” Greer asked Keane. “Are you in?”  
Keane clenched her jaw before looking up at him, “Let me sleep on it.”  
“That’s okay. We can finish discussing this over breakfast and a plan on recruiting a fifth.”  
Allard finished her whiskey. “You know what they want us to get?”  
“Wallis wouldn’t tell me until we accepted the offer.”  
“That’s dubious and not surprising,” Keane stated. She looked down at her boots again and thought how nice it would be to have a new pair that weren’t bought with tainted credits.

Trees, dirt, sand, metal, and blood, all at once. The sun was warm and the wind gentle. Keane tried to convinced herself the desert in the middle of mountains was a dream and not an actual experience.

******************************************************************************

She was up first, waiting by the entrance of the docking arm to their ship. Her arms were wrapped around her trying to stay warm despite having a wool jumper on. Murtry greeted her with a cursory glance.  
“I don’t want a ten minute story in a five minute bag. Too early and no coffee for that shit. Are you onboard for this? Honestly,” Murtry yawned and propped himself up on the wall.  
She looked down at her worn boots, “It’s money. Which we all need,”   
“Yes.”  
She shrugged, “It’ll be exciting to go to a new star system. One of the first to really see these planets and get into their dirt.”  
“You should have been a scientist.”  
“I was an engineer.”  
Murtry lowered his tone, “Soon enough people will accept your kind and you won’t have to hide.”  
Keane gave a shy smile, “You mean that?”  
“I may have the face of an arsehole, the walk of an arsehole, and sound like an arsehole,” they both chuckled, “but I am sincere in what I’ve said. If it wasn’t for your...modification you would have died on that rock.”  
Keane’s breath deepened. “I’m still human,” she smiled and part of her fringe fell over her face.  
Without thinking, Murtry gently swept the ginger hairs aside, “Of course.”  
The sound of footsteps approached.   
“Waffles! Pancakes! Sausage! Mimosas!” Allard cheered as she made her way through the docking arm. Greer dragged feet behind her, he pulled a polar over his head .  
“No alcohol,” yawned Greer as he tried to smooth down his short brown hair.  
“How are you so cheerful every morning?” groaned Murtry as he turned away headed for the mess halls.  
Allard ran to meet Murtry’s pace, “Because each time I wake up, I’m so happy to be alive. Arrête d’être grincheux!” 

Smörgåsbord dining hall was quiet this early phase, or morning as ground pounders called it. A few tables were occupied but the chatter was low and infrequent. Kitchen workers filled the buffet with an assortment of breakfast foods. Allard swiped her credit card first and dashed to the buffet without waiting for the rest of the crew.  
“The coffee smells so delightful!” Murtry moaned out in near ecstasy.   
Keane paced in front of him and smiled in agreement. She eyed the coffee station with hungry eyes and was thinking about a large cup of black coffee, but a patron caught her attention. It was the man who was in the bed beside her hyperbaric chamber. His new arm was completed and he was massaging it softly.  
Good for him, she thought. His face wasn’t shaven, clothing showed their age, and dirt clung to his boots. He must be a floater, an unusually attractive floater. She looked behind to get another glance and their eyes met. I’ve seen him somewhere before. Before the incident. Keane snapped her head around and poured her first cup of coffee.  
Allard placed her plate down a few tables over from the man by the wall. Her mouth was already full with food when Keane set down a cup of coffee for Allard.  
“Je t’adore!” Blow kisses were exchanged.

Food was being shovelled into mouths and condiments were passed around. “I’m in,” Keane traced a flower in the maple syrup on the plate in front of her.  
Greer patted her back, “Good, good. I’m glad you decided to stick with us.”  
“Someone has to save your asses. Arses.” They shared a laugh. Keane continued in a whisper, “Who knows, maybe Terra Corp will go under by the time we get back?”  
“Cheers to that,” Murtry raised his mug, “so, what are we going to do about finding a harvester?”  
The man’s ears perked up and looked over at their table, Keane caught his movement in her peripheral.   
“Suppose we’ll go down to the docks and see if there’s any contractors or floaters. Plenty of decent Belters,” Greer thought out loud.  
“There’s a job agency here yes?” Allard asked as she leaned back with her cup of coffee.  
“Yeah. I suppose that would be the first place. We can’t just get anyone. We need someone trustworthy who’s not going to murder. Someone who can do the job...whatever it is exactly. And...not murder us and or steal from us,” Greer trailed off.   
“You’re really worried about someone murdering us?”, Keane laughed, “I guess we have to vet them first.”  
“I can get a background check on someone quickly,” Greer reasoned.  
“No, no. I know what you mean. But if we are required to hire this harvester, then at least we go the contractor route. Anyone who won’t sign a contract can’t be trusted.”  
“Right,” Murtry agreed, “it’s why we avoid the floaters. Possibly avoid Belters, they-”  
“-Why won’t those people do contracts anyways? The floaters I mean,” Keane wondered.   
“I think it has something to do with the legal fees. And maybe principles,” Murtry rolled his eyes.   
“It’s mainly the legal fees,” a voice boomed to the group. In unison the crew turned towards the man who approached them with a stride of confidence that cut the air he moved through.   
“Legal fees shouldn’t scare anyone in need of work.”  
“Well some folks are in rough situations that don’t allow them the comfort of throwing credits to lawyers,” the man’s voice was accented with a drawl, “and so they turn to the honour of word and hard work.”  
“So we just rely on the word on some floater to uphold their end of the bargain?”  
“What’s a contract going to do for you out in The Empty when you’re faced with someone stronger than you?”  
Murtry glared at him.  
“Clearly you have an interest,” Greer chided, “since you’ve listened to our conversation.”  
“My apologies, but I do good sir,” the man claimed. He sat down at the table next to Greer, “I’m Ezra.” He extended his arm towards Greer.  
Hesitantly, Greer accepted the handshake, “I’m Greer. These here are Allard, Keane, and Murtry.”  
“Surname basis I see.”  
“It’s standard. What’s yours?”  
“That’s a tale and a half,” Ezra advised as Murtry rolled his eyes, “but I go by my mother’s name Reyes.”  
“Ezra Reyes?” questioned Keane.  
“It’s a strange combination for sure. My mother and father came from two very different backgrounds, but fell in love regardless.”  
“So what can you offer us?” Greer returned to the point of this meeting.  
“I am a floater, yes, but I may have the skills you desire for this fifth wheel.”   
Greer looked over Ezra’s shoulders as more people filtered into the dining hall. “How long have you been doing what you’ve been doing? What do you do?”  
Ezra took in a breath. “I have been harvesting all over the inhabited systems since I was a spry teenager. Plants, gems, a variety of metals and foul smelling liquids to keep structures like Arcadia spinning and our ships flying. And I am willing to sign a contract.”  
“You are?” Murtry blurted.  
“I am. I am a man of my word. Now what is that you’ll have me do and where are we going?”  
The group collective drew a breath and it was Greer who spoke, “We are going somewhere far to harvest samples of some material.” Greer carefully described.  
“Well that is nebulous.”  
“It’s for Terra Corp.”  
Ezra gave pause upon Terra Corp being mentioned. “I suppose I am sitting in front of some well-accomplished team to have caught the eyes of one of the most powerful companies in the occupied Universe.”  
“It’s basically an adventure of a lifetime and good money,” Keane cracked her neck.  
“Yeah and far away to the outer edges of the travelled galaxy,” Murtry huffed.  
Ezra’s curiosity peaked, “How far is the travel and how much are they offering?” He was met with apprehensive glances, “It’s a large sum of money?”  
Greer ran a hand through his hair. “Two parsecs away and payment is in the millions.”  
Ezra’s eyes widened, “Oh. I’ll be honest that caught me off guard,” he gave a weary smile, “My math isn’t the greatest, but I do believe that’s over a century of travel is it not?”  
Keane finished her coffee, “Correct. A hundred and-”  
“-twenty six years,” the crew said in unison.   
“That’s an awfully long time. What do your loved ones say?” Ezra said as he flexed his new right arm and shook it a few times.   
The crew found themselves in another round of meaningful silence which Keane broke, “we don’t have anyone but ourselves. We’re loners, we’re rebels.” She smiled to lighten the mood and Ezra smiled back.  
“I like you,” he pointed at her. “I find that hard to believe that not one person in this part of the galaxy wants to be around any of you, except for this curmudgeon,” he nodded towards Murtry.   
“Like I said, we’re rebels.”  
“And what are you rebelling against?”  
Keane sighed and gathered her thoughts for a second, she looked to her crew but none of them were interested in talking to a stranger about where they were from and why they were out this far from home. “Join us and maybe we’ll tell you.”  
Murtry scrunched his eyes closed, Allard nudged Keane with a flirtatious smile, and Greer couldn’t help but grin.  
“I have been known to go great lengths for a good story, but I will admit a century of travel is intimidating.”  
“You’re willing to spend that century with strangers? You don’t have anyone?”  
“No I don’t,” Ezra lied, “I’m a floater. For now.”  
Greer looked Ezra over, “We’re meeting with Terra soon. You have more presentable clothing?”  
“Why yes I do own interview clothes,” joked Ezra.


End file.
